Sweet Boundless by Kristen Heitzmann Read Free Book Online Page A

At Mae’s the floor had held a little warmth from the rooms below. Here it was only cold ground beneath the wood. She washed hurriedly with the pitcher and bowl she had borrowed from Mae and set on a crate by the window.
    Rubbing her face dry, she looked out. The fog had brightened with the coming dawn but had not cleared. The town looked ghostly pale. Maybe Quillan wouldn’t ride out in fog like this. Maybe he would stay with her for the day. She anticipated the thought hopefully. All things were possible. She cleaned her teeth and loosed her braid, then brushed the hair and left it down.
    It was her finest feature. Hadn’t Flavio . . . Carina stopped, amazed. That was the second time she’d thought of Flavio. Did Quillan’s difficult behavior bring to mind the first man she had thought she loved? Would it always be so? Would Quillan wound her in the same way?
    She pressed a fist to her breastbone and dropped to her knees. Grazie, Signore, for this day. I know you are bigger than my troubles. And I am a lot of trouble to you . However, Carina sensed God’s love now in a way she hadn’t before. Crystal had made her know Him, made her need Him. And she had surrendered.
    She no longer tried to boss and bully God, to chastise Him when things didn’t go her way. Her thanks were not empty acknowledgments that He had done as she wanted. He knew better what she needed, and she tried— tried —to submit.
    I ask only that your will be done. You know the desire of my heart. If it is your desire as well, let my husband love me . She remembered Father Antoine’s words. “You don’t have because you don’t ask.” Bene. I’m asking. I’m asking for his love. But you know best. I surrender to your will .
    It was the best she could do with such a wayward spirit as hers. She stood and went to the bed. Stooping, she pulled the carpetbag from underneath. From it she took the skirt and blouse she’d worn yesterday and some clean underclothes. When she had time she would put hooks on the walls. But for now, she must hurry. If Quillan came back while she was changing . . .
    But he didn’t. She pulled on the oversized miner’s jacket and went to the door. The dog rose, wagging himself earnestly. She bent and stroked his head. “What’s your name? Are you my house dog, my cane da guardia? Are you keeping me safe?” The dog’s tongue lapped her hand, and she laughed.
    “You are a lover, I see. Your master better watch out, or he will lose you to a lady dog, a fine bella cagna .” She opened the door and the dog leaped out, then frisked on the stoop. She closed the door behind her, and the animal raced off. She was concerned a moment, but he raced back as swiftly, circling her legs.
    She wished she felt as carefree as she started across to Mae’s. The fog was so thick she could barely see Mae’s place. A few spindly shapes wavered in and out like specters. She slowly found Mae’s back door and gripped the knob, relieved. Then she realized the dog was still wiggling at her side.
    She glanced out where she knew the pump to be. “All right. Come on.” She cut across the yard and almost stumbled on the stone basin at its base. She worked the pump handle and brought water into the basin. The dog lapped happily. Carina smiled. If only everything were that easy.
    She started back. Suddenly a figure loomed and she cried out. The dog rushed past her legs, leaping and cajoling as Quillan caught her elbow.
    “Are you all right?”
    “Yes. You startled me.” Her heart still raced, but then, Quillan had a way of suddenly appearing without warning.
    “Sorry. Down, Sam.”
    “Is that his name?” Carina let the dog lap her fingers again.
    “Second Samuel. Cain named him, not me. The first Samuel died.”
    “I gave him water.” Would he care that she’d seen to his dog?
    “Thanks.”
    “Mae might have something for him. Some scraps . . .”
    “I’ll take care of it.”
    Carina clasped her fingers together. “Are you coming